The Witch's Weakness
by D-Square
Summary: The story of Vaeren Cousland and Morrigan's relationship in Dragon Age: Origins pre and post "Witch Hunt". A relationship that is tested and brought to the brink where a question lingers at the back of their minds. "Is love truly a weakness?" Rated M for Violence and future adult themes. Italics signify flashbacks while normal text is the "present".
1. Chapter 1

The Witch's Weakness

Chapter 1

_ "I wish to ask you something," Morrigan said when the Warden had come to check on her as was his routine._

_ Vaeren Cousland cracked that half smile she knew so well. At first she had found it annoying, a show of him not taking something seriously. However she found this to just be in his nature. It was almost as instinctive as breathing for him was what she had supposed. And yet it still had an effect on her. Her heartbeat quickened._

_ "Yes?" he asked._

_ She looked into those blue eyes. They had seemed so innocent when they had first met. But after all that had happened there was too much they had seen. Those innocent eyes were a mask for the horrors that they had discovered. His black hair was unkempt and hardly resembled that of a noble. Though he was a noble no longer she reminded herself._

_ "I wish to know your opinion…" she hesitated. Her cat like eyes embarrassed. Something she was not used to feeling._

_ "My opinion on what?" he asked trying to catch her eyes again. He loved her eyes. Animalistic and yet, captivating. Her cheeks flushed only for a moment. But Vaeren saw._

_ "On love," she said._

_ Love. An odd word coming from Morrigan. It took a moment for Vaeren to come up with an answer. This was a topic they both had chosen to ignore. She had stated flat out how against she was. Thus Vaeren decided it was best to avoid the subject to avoid angering her. But now it was on her mind. Most likely from the time they had spent together. And still he was at a loss._

_ "Love?" he managed._

_ "Yes," she said, "I do not remember stuttering."_

_ Her sudden defensiveness spoke volumes to Vaeren. Not the least of which was that this topic was sensitive._

_ "Well what about it?" he asked curiously._

_ "Well…" she thought carefully how she wanted to proceed, "We've been close for sometime now. I… I find you impressive in many ways. You protected me from Flemeth without hope of real reward. I am… anxious when I look upon you."_

_ "What are you saying, Morrigan?" he asked._

_ "I dislike this sense of dependency. 'Tis a weakness I abhor! If this is "Love" I wish to ascertain that you do not feel the same."_

_ "Are you saying you love me?" the Warden asked teasingly._

_ "No! That's not what I am saying. You need to pay attention. What I AM saying is that I… have become too close. "Tis a weakness."_

_ "It's not," Vaeren replied simply._

_ "You're not listening to me. It's a distraction! I am not worth your attention and you are not worth mine."_

_ She felt like she had lied. That he was not worth her distraction. It was pleasant. And their time together had opened her eyes in aspects of life._

_ "You ARE worth my distraction," he said, "And you will not convince me otherwise. I do care for you. The question is will you allow me to?"_

_ She finally looked away. This was something she had been curious about, something that had been missing in her life. And she was too afraid to let it happen._

_ "You will regret this in the end…" she said._

_ "Then allow me to enjoy it now," he replied._

_ He kissed her gently and she swam in brief serenity. She broke off from his lips._

_ "I wish to be alone," she said._

_ He nodded and left._

Morrigan snapped from the memory. She ran a finger over her tingling lips. As if their kiss had just occurred. She looked around her room. Too elegant for her tastes. Denerim was not somewhere she enjoyed being. And now Vaeren was in Fort Drakon. Undergoing torture. She shut her eyes and focused on the ring she had given him. She felt the pain of the Warden. She heard his cries. She broke off the connection.

"Not a weakness," she frowned, "Then why do I feel despair in your current situation?"

She was prepared to go there along with Wynne to rescue him. A long shot of a plan was put in place. And she could only imagine what he was going through. The door opened.

"Morrigan? Are you ready?" Wynne asked.

"I am," she said, "I do not know why we delay when the Warden is in agony!"

"We'll get him back," Wynne replied knowingly.

"Then why do we stand her talking about it? Let's go."

_ He had made a habit of going to her fire each night. Sometimes just to say goodnight. Sometimes to converse. Mostly questions about herself. Trivial things these questions but not a danger to answer. _

_ "You have no magical abilities, thus 'twould be impossible for you to change forms," she said._

_ "Damn," he replied, "I had an idea to scare the socks off Alistair by being a giant spider."_

_ Morrigan imagined this and smiled to herself. An entertaining idea. Perhaps she would do this someday._

_ "I find myself curious Warden," she said, "You are very accepting of my Apostate status. Normally illegal mages are frowned upon greatly."_

_ "You're abilities are incredible. Useful without a doubt. Who am I to tell someone how they must live? It's not my place to govern what a mage does with their life."_

_ She raised and lowered her eyebrows. An interesting man this Cousland._

_ "And you feel no fear of me?" she asked._

_ "Well…" he smiled, "Only if you're angry at me."_

_ She chuckled, "Well let's hope that isn't often."_

_ "Believe me I wish to stay on your good side," he said, "I've seen you turn into a spider. I prefer this form."_

_ "Oh? The hairy multiple legs and pincers do not entice you?" she asked with a smile._

_ He laughed, "You're beautiful as you are."_

_ Beautiful? A compliment she had received numerous times from lustful eyes before, but it was not unwelcome. And his eyes, told a different story._

_ "Oh?"_

_ He nodded. She fully expected him to make an advancement of some sort. To try to get closer, touch her hand, kiss her even. But he did not. Instead he smiled at her, wished her goodnight and returned to the main camp. She found herself, oddly enough, wondering why he did not make such a move. Then she began questioning why she wanted him to. And as she pondered this throughout the night, she fell into uneasy sleep._

"Morrigan I need you to hold him steady," Wynne said firmly as Vaeren lay in Morrigan's arms.

"Warden!" Morrigan said, "Stay still. You're hurt."

He groaned and thrashed. His right leg was bent in an odd angle.

"The machines," he whispered, "The… machines!"

Morrigan felt her finder trace over the wounds on his back. Blood began soaking into her clothes. Her hands held him firmly. Bloody handprints staining his skinny torso.

"This will hurt Vaeren," Wynne said, "Try to endure."

A blue mist flowed from her fingertips to his leg. He saw the mist envelop the leg. He screamed as a loud snap came from it. It returned to its normal position. He swore violently.

"I'm sorry dear," Wynne said, "We have to do this. We must get you out of here. Give me your hands."

The fingers were broken.

"Morrigan, do something! Calm him down!"

"What am I supposed to do? He's bleeding everywhere."

"Say something! You are close to him! Who better to calm him than you?"

Morrigan knew she was right. She looked at the Warden. His pain was hers. She whispered into his ear.

"Vaeren… shhh. Calm down. 'Twill be over soon. I am here. Endure."

His head craned to look at her. His eyes spoke to her. He had been broken. Or close to it. They never broke their gazes. Even as his fingers cracked and were pushed back into place. He didn't wince. He didn't make a sound. But she felt his pain.

"I have to remove this ring Vaeren," Wynne said, "It will disrupt the healing."

Wynne removed it gently wondering how it had not been confiscated. Morrigan still felt with him despite the ring's removal.

_Crack!_

Morrigan felt the ring placed back onto his finger. His words echoed in her mind.

_"If I was a giant spider I wouldn't have to worry about broken fingers."_

She smiled and rocked him gently as Wynne continued healing his various wounds.

"Shhhhh," she whispered soothingly.

"Morrigan?" Wynne asked.

"Yes?"

"Are you alright dear? You're crying."

_He had gone to seek her out. Flemeth. Her mother. He said he'd kill her. to protect her. She didn't expect him to be back for awhile. It was a four day journey, not to mention the Darkspawn they had to evade. But she was anxious. She sat on a tree stump near a small pond. The waiting was killing her._

_ "Don't worry," said a voice beside her, "He'll be back. It'll take more than a Witch of the Wilds to take him down."_

_ Alistair. What did he want?_

_ "Worried?" she scoffed._

_ "You seem like it. He can handle it."_

_ "Do you mean to assume that I am worried for the Warden?" she asked._

_ "I do," Alistair said._

_ "You assume too much," she said, "My goal is the Grimoire. And I am anxious for its retrieval."_

_ "And for Vaeren's return," Alistair grinned._

_ "He is important to Ferelden. He must end the Blight."_

_ "Important to Ferelden… and you," Alistair said._

_ "Alistair?"_

_ "Yes?"_

_ "Shut up."_

_ "Alright, alright," he said, "I thought that I would at least make an attempt to help you. Serves me right for that foolish notion."_

_ "Indeed," Morrigan said._

_ Alistair went back to his tent. Morrigan picked at her nails. She knew the fool was right. They were close. Too close for her comfort. And yet she found it pleasant. He had become important to her to a degree. She did worry for him. Her mother was powerful. More than likely she would fight them as a dragon. She shuddered to think of the consequences of failure._

_ "Come back to me, My Warden," she sighed._

_ The next day arrived slowly. Each passing minute a decade in her mind. He walked slowly, attempting to hide an obvious limp._

_ "Vaeren as soon as your done you need to come back to my tent for some healing. That goes double for you Sten."_

_ Sten nodded. Some of his armor appeared to be melted. A piece seared into his flesh. Vaeren was no better. Burns covered his arms. Three long slashes from dragon's claws decorated his chest. And yet still he pretended that he was unhindered. Putting on a masculine show and ignoring the pain. He smiled that smile. Seeing him as he was, wounded, limping, and smiling at her as if none of it mattered. As if she was more important than Ferelden, the Blight. She forgot of the Grimoire. _

_ "Warden," she said somewhat speechless, "Are you…"_

_ He held up a hand to quiet her. He produced a black leather bound book._

_ "Not too much trouble," he said._

_ "Mother's Grimoire?" she said._

_ He nodded._

_ "You… I… thank you. I will study this immediately."_

_ He nodded again. She didn't know what to do. She thought of kissing him, hugging him. But in his condition… she thought better of it._

_ "Vaeren!" Wynne shouted, "Get over here. Those burns will be permanent if we don't treat them."_

_ "Coming!" he shouted with a smile._

_ Morrigan smiled at him. One that told Vaeren to get well. And get well VERY soon._

She watched him sleep. His wounds were healed yes, but what of Vaeren's mental state. Fort Drakon would surely haunt him for a very long time. Perhaps his entire life. Scars told the story of what had happened. Whips, cat of nine tails, knives that created tally marks. She traced the outline of them. He moaned in his sleep. Sensing nightmares of unspeakable atrocities she stroked his arm slowly.

"If we had only come sooner," she said aloud.

He stirred briefly, gave a small cry and then lay still. She carefully lay down on the bed next to him. He remained asleep even as she put his arm around her. She curled next to him like a frightened child. Tracing the outlines on his chest she felt tears well up. Blinking them away she kissed his knuckles.

"Forgive me," she said, "For what is to come."

A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read through this. Obviously I do not own the rights to Dragon Age or its characters.

THE REAL A/N: please be sure to review this and follow if you enjoyed. Hopefully you enjoyed and will follow my chronicles of Vaeren Cousland. For now I know we haven't really touched on him personally yet. But I plan on making this lengthy. Just a bit. Thank you for reading


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So I was PMed by a couple people who got confused. I had hoped this would be obvious but just to clear it all up. The italics is a "flashback" or a memory of Morrigan's. No this isn't a linear style story. It just to various events. However the non-italicized parts are what is going on "presently". So the regular text could be considered the linear parts. Also to make it easier I will space it a bit more between a flashback and the present events just so it is easier on the eyes. Hope you enjoy! :D

Chapter 2

_ Swiftly she ran. The animalistic side taking over. The Wilds. They had called. Spoke to her soul. The others beside her were unaware of anything out of the ordinary. She was one with them. A pack member. Morrigan stopped and howled. The other wolves followed suit. She loved it. Running with wolves. She stretched out her paws. Times like these were rare nowadays. And she cherished them whenever the opportunity arose._

_ One of the wolves growled. The hair on his neck raised. The others began to snarl viciously. Morrigan watched them carefully. Someone approached. She hid in a nearby bush and observed. Four armed men came. The wolves crouched low and prepared an attack. Morrigan sometimes enjoyed this part. Foolish men believing they could best the Wilds. As they came closer the pack charged. The men were taking by surprise and Morrigan fully expected them to become the pack's supper. One man with blondish hair bashed one of the wolves with his shield before ripping his blade from his sheathe. The skinny black haired one's daggers expertly carved through his enemies. He began to aid his comrades. Morrigan watched silently. A small pang of sadness rushed through her as her wolf "friends" were slaughtered. The thin black haired man helped the others to their feet, bandaging any wounds they might have sustained. He spoke as if he was their leader. And yet the blonde one seemed to be the more experienced of the group._

_ "Alistair, did I hear a squeal from you? Frightened by some dogs?" the blacked haired one said._

_ "Ha!" the blonde returned, "I am more manly than you give me credit for, Vaeren. My bulging muscles repelled the fangs of those puppies."_

_ "Really? I could've sworn I heard a squeal."_

_ "Most likely Daveth."_

_ "Hey!" shouted a dirty looking man whose bow appeared to have broken in two._

_ "Jory seemed a tad petrified as well eh?" said the one called Vaeren._

_ "Probably pissed himself, he did," said Daveth._

_ "I am a knight of Redcliffe! We do not piss ourselves!" the balding one said._

_ "Right," said Alistair, "Well piss or no we all have to find some Darkspawn blood here soon. Ritual and all. I really do not want to find out what's out here when the sun sets."_

_ "Darkspawn blood? Wardens?" Morrigan pondered. But surely these fools could not be a part of the famed "Grey Wardens". The blonde one seemed especially foolish, she thought as she watched him adjust his hair. _

_ She eyed the one called Vaeren. Thin for a Warden. Weren't they supposed to be impressive? His physique suggested otherwise. Though there was an aura about him. One who had experienced too much in his life. His eyes seemed innocent. And yet something was intriguing about them. She found herself curious about these men. For even as they collected blood for this "ritual" they pressed onward. Further and further into the wood. Morrigan tracked their progress to a ruin._

_ "Of course," she thought, "The Warden's outpost. But what would they want with it?"_

_ It had long been abandoned. Everything of value picked clean by the Chasined or scavengers. She found herself curious. She hid in some rubble and shifted into her human form. She fixed her appearance, a habit, and watched. The men came to a destroyed chest. They were obviously after something. No one came this far into her home._

_ "They aren't here," Vaeren said, "Someone came for these before us."_

_ "Oh, Duncan is not going to like this," Alistair said._

_ Morrigan remembered that her mother had been here before. Had taken something. Scrolls of some sort. Were these, perhaps, what they were after? She felt tempted to speak with them. To have some other human interaction besides her mother would be a welcome change of pace. She came from her hiding place and decided a taste of the theatrics would suit her best. Frightening them could be entertaining._

_ "Well, well," she said, "What have we here?"_

_ They reacted as she expected. Hands on weapons and a glare that would faze anyone who hadn't already tasted of the animal side. _

_ "Are you a vulture I wonder," she said watching the one called Vaeren, "A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones have long been picked clean?"_

_ She came closer. Vaeren stood his ground. Alistair was subtly retreating away along with the other two._

_ "Or are you an intruder? Come into these Darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of easy pray?"_

_ She knew they were aware of the legends of the Wilds. A witch with powers that as soon as she looked at you, death would claim its prize. Daveth's skin turned pale. _

_ "What say you?" she said, "Scavenger or intruder?"_

_ Morrigan supposed it was Daveth's turn to relieve himself in his armor. _

_ "Neither," said Vaeren, "We are of the Grey Wardens."_

_ "Then you must know that the Wardens have long abandoned this place?"_

_ "Yes."_

_ "Do you have what was in the chest!?" Alistair spoke up._

_ "I do not," Morrigan replied, "They have long been taken."_

_ "I-I don't think w-w-we should speak to her," Daveth whispered._

_ "I agree," Jory whispered back._

_ "Do you know who does, M'lady?" Vaeren asked._

_ An odd man this Vaeren. "M'lady"? Was she a noble to suddenly be called this title?_

_ "Careful," Alistair said to Vaeren, "She looks Chasined. Which means others could be nearby."_

_ "Oh? You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?" Morrigan said._

_ Alistair's eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Yes. Swooping. Swooping is… bad. We don't like swooping. Or swoopers."_

_ Swoopers? Stupid man, thought Morrigan._

_ "She's a Witch of the Wilds!" Daveth said, "She's going to turn us into toads."_

_ Toads?_

_ "Then eat us!"_

_ This was more entertaining than she had expected._

_ "You there," Morrigan pointed at Vaeren, "You seem to know the proper way of conversation. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."_

_ "Don't do it," whispered Daveth shaking in his boots._

_ "Don't," said Alistair._

_ Vaeren stepped a little closer to her. Placing a fist across his chest and gave a small polite bow._

_ "Vaeren," he said with a smile. Fake or real she did not know. "It's an honor."_

_ "An honor? Well I don't know about that," she said with a smile, "However such manners are not unwelcome. So few in the wilds know of them. My name "good sir" is Morrigan."_

_ She did a dramatic curtsy to match his bow. He chuckled._

_ "Something humorous?" she asked._

_ "I did not expect a curtsy," he said, "The bow and salute is just habit."_

_ "I see," she replied, "Soldier? Nobility?"_

_ "Son of nobility," Vaeren said. His eyes seemed hurt. As if something troubled him about the phrase. _

_ "You don't seem like a Noble."_

_ "The life of a Warden is not exactly comfortable living. So I hear anyway."_

_ He had a way of conversation. She realized as they spoke that it seemed like a casual conversation between old friends._

_ "Hm. Well, Vaeren is it? The scrolls you look for are not here. My mother has them."_

_ "I see," he replied, "And with your permission may we accompany you and retrieve them? We won't be a bother."_

_ She narrowed her eyes. Honesty? An odd trait for one so well spoken._

_ "Very well," she said after a moment's thought, "But only because I like you a little better than your comrades. Follow me if you please."_

_ They followed her cautiously and as they went she heard Daveth swearing under his breath and saying, "Toads. We're becoming bloody toads." Repeatedly._

Vaeren's mental health after Drakon seemed unaltered. Shockingly enough he was his old self. Nothing suggested mental scarring after what he was put through. Wynne demanded bed rest for much of the following day.

"Wynne," he grinned stupidly, "I am in perfect health. I can walk. Kind of."

"Kind of?" she asked, "No. You will remain in bed until I say so."

"But 'Mother'!" he whined jokingly.

"No," she smiled, "Rest."

"Oh, very well," he said, "I surrender. Can you tell Morrigan to come? I would like to talk to her."

Wynne forced a smile and nodded. Leaving his room she went to Morrigan's quarters. Wynne found the young witch in meditation. Candles burned in a circle around her.

"I wish not to be disturbed," she said as Wynne entered.

"He is asking for you," Wynne replied.

The candles' flames seemed to grow as she finished the sentence.

"I am occupied."

"Will you not see him?"

The flames grew again. The candle wax dripping faster and faster as the heat intensified.

"No."

"Any particular reason why?" Wynne asked.

The flames roared, turning into one single vortex around the witch from Korcari. Her anger fueling flaming wall.

"Do you see me pestering you with useless questions!? I do not! I wish to be left alone! Go!"

Wynne snuffed out the fire with her magic. Scorch marks covered the ceiling.

"Do not assume that a display like that frightens me," Wynne said firmly, "I will not hesitate to put you in your place if need be. Vaeren asked for you. I simply am the messenger."

"I know," Morrigan sighed.

"Is everything alright?" Wynne asked.

Morrigan remained silent.

"I don't assume to know everything about you," Wynne said after a long silence, "But I do know that he cares deeply for you."

"Foolish man," Morrigan whispered to herself. Wynne did not hear.

"And I know that he means a great deal to you as well," Wynne continued.

Morrigan's eyes widened.

"What?"

"It is obvious," Wynne said, "Whether you care to admit it or not is another case entirely."

Morrigan faced the old Circle mage now.

"A lot will happen in the coming days," Morrigan said, "More than I think you know."

"We must stop the Blight," Wynne replied, "These could even be our last days if we fail. You would not enjoy the quiet times as they come?"

"You… do not understand," Morrigan said watching the floor.

"Maybe I don't," Wynne said, "But leaving him in the dark won't ease his mind."

"I… I cannot go to him," Morrigan voice seemed to break. But only momentarily.

"I see," Wynne said disappointedly, "What should I tell him?"

"Anything," Morrigan said, "Make something up, if you think it wise."

"Very well."

Wynne closed the door behind her as she retreated. She sighed. She did not try to understand what was happening. Small sobs came from the room. She shook her head.

"I wish I had advice for you, dear girl," she whispered, "But I cannot help you if you don't want it."

Morrigan could feel sadness emitting from the ring. Disappointment as well. She tried to block it out. She didn't know what the old woman had said. But this was for the best. Best to begin separating herself now.

"Fool," she said to herself, "Why did you get so close? You knew. You knew what would happen."

She rubbed her aching head.

"Take the damn thing off Warden," she whispered, "I beg you. You're making this difficult."

She began toying with the necklace she wore. A simple trinket. A blue sapphire hung from the silver chain. Such a useless thing. And yet…

_"Yes?" Morrigan asked as Vaeren came to her that night._

_ She sat before her fire and looked at him across it._

_ "May I ask you something?" he said._

_ "Well, I suppose," she smiled, "Though me saying 'no' has never stopped you before."_

_ "I suppose not," he laughed, "I guess bugging you is just a pastime I enjoy."_

_ "Indeed," she chuckled._

_ "It's just that I am having a bit of trouble," he frowned._

_ "With?" she raised a brow._

_ "Well, I found this today," he said producing a silver necklace with a sapphire stone displayed upon the chain, "And I am having trouble deciding on what to do with this."_

_ "I-" she began but he was suddenly standing behind her. The chain gently clasped behind her neck. The sapphire was cold against her chest._

_ "Perhaps it would serve its purpose here," he said._

_ She touched the glistening stone._

_ "Do you like it?" he asked._

_ "Y-yes! 'Tis a useless item. But I like it very much."_

_ "Well, I'm glad."_

_ "The others shall find it odd that you're giving me gifts, Warden," Morrigan smiled slyly._

_ "Well the gift I gave to Ohgren makes him seem okay with it," the Warden replied._

_ A loud drunken laugh echoed through the night followed by, "Asschabs!"_

_ "I see," Morrigan said with a frown._

_ "What's wrong?" Vaeren asked._

_ "Nothing," she said, "I did not know that everyone would be the subject of your generosity."_

_ Vaeren sensed something odd._

_ "How about I give you one more gift? One more than everyone else?"_

_ "Feeling truly generous tonight are you, Warden?" she chuckled._

_ He suddenly drew very close. Her eyes widened in shock as she felt his lips upon hers. Shocking, unexpected, and yet she welcomed it. She closed her eyes and kissed him back. Hard at first and then gently. Allowing the sweet taste of his lips to overcome her senses. Finally he drew back._

_ "Call me Vaeren," he smiled, "And if you ever turn into a spider when that happens I will be very upset. Goodnight."_

_ He went to his tent then and she sat there. Still slightly stunned. She ran her fingers over the necklace and smiled._

_ "I see," she said, "Very well, Warden. I'll play along."_

_ That night she slept easily. As if nothing mattered and all was well._

"Ready then?" Vaeren said, "We should get there soon. Landsmeet is starting soon and it won't help our cause to be late."

"This sock is dirty," whined Alistair.

"Then don't wear it! But if we're late because of a sock I doubt the other Arls will be understanding."

"Fine! Fine!"

"Let's kick that nughumper's ass," Ohgren growled.

"Don't make me regret bringing you, Ohgren," Vaeren sighed.

"I'm just sayin'! If that Loghain tries anything he's going to have four feet of angry dwarf to deal with."

"Well, your heart is in the right place at least," Vaeren said, "Morrigan? Ready?"

She shook her head, "No. I will remain here and prepare poultices that were used for your recovery."

Her tone was cold.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"Alright. Very well. Wynne will you come in her stead?"

"Delighted to," Wynne smiled.

As they began to leave Arl Eamon's estate Vaeren lagged behind.

"Morrigan? Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Of course," she lied.

"Okay then," he said.

She turned her face away from his kiss. Her cheek flushed as his lips made contact with it.

"I… will be back later then," he said with confusion in his voice.

"Splendid," Morrigan said flatly and returned to her room.

He was left dumbfounded. Regaining his senses he left for the Landsmeet. Morrigan slammed the door. She leaned against it and slid down until she sat on the floor.

"Why must this be so difficult?" she moaned.

It was so easy to cut off a man from her life before. Those lust filled relationships were easily short-lived and simple. Why should this be any different? She went to the desk and sat down. Opening her pack to create the poultices her fingers ran across a small cloth covered item. She hesitantly removed it from the pack. Taking off the cloth she looked at the small golden mirror. The mirror was so similar to the one from her childhood. Vaeren had remembered her talking about it. Saw this in Orzamarr and purchased it for her. She held it and looked at the miserable woman in the reflection. She cursed herself. Her grip became hard and turned her knuckles white.

_It could be easily broken. Just smash it. Release yourself from him, _she thought.

But she couldn't. Instead she found herself placing the cloth back over it. Delicately placing it back into her pack she put her head in her hands.

_Release me Vaeren. Please. I cannot… we cannot… continue. This road leads to devastation. _


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_She didn't know how to explain it. Her feelings for Vaeren were unlike anything she had ever experienced. She looked forward to his nightly visits as they brought her joy. He was still recovering from his battle with her mother. Bandages covered his arms and he walked awkwardly and yet still, somehow, carried himself with his usual confident, cocky aura. She found herself yearning. Though she never would admit that to him. Or to herself for that matter._

_Night had fallen and the crickets began their symphony. Morrigan toyed with the necklace. It swayed back and forth and the sapphire shone brilliantly as her fire's light reflected of the precious stone. She bit her lip. The yearning grew, eating away at her. She opened her tent flap and looked out. There he was, at the river's edge. He dipped his arms in the coolness of the water. Allowing it to soothe the burns. He applied new bandages. _

_Morrigan watched him. Her wolf like eyes glowed in the darkness, allowing her to see him work. His senses caught on to the fact that he was being watched. He glanced her way and recognized her gaze from within her tent. He stood, not breaking eye contact, and strode in her direction. A smile played upon her lips as he drew closer. He crouched next to the fire. She felt nervous now. He had this affect._

"_You should sleep," he said._

_She stayed silent, her smile never wavering. _

"_Morrigan?" Vaeren asked._

_He watched her bite her lip and slowly trace a finger from her lips down her neck and to the outline of her breast. He smiled. He entered her tent and she sat up. His bandaged arms and hands found her hip where he drew her closer. He cupped her cheek with his other hand and kissed her gently. She grasped his hand on her cheek and began to unwrap it, kissing the burned flesh softly. Each kiss upon the burns was soothing to him. She did the same to his other arm. He watched her. She sensed his heartbeat growing faster and faster with her own. She removed her robe, allowing the cold air to touch her naked torso. He reached for her. Both yearned for the other. Their kiss was long and impassioned. He broke off suddenly._

"_Morrigan?" he said, "Are you sure?"_

"_Yes," she whispered and leaned to kiss him again._

"_But-" he began._

_Her kiss interrupted him. She softly bit his lower lip and her eyes glowed again._

"_Don't make me repeat myself," she said hoping the shakiness of her tone would not betray he nerves._

_He didn't hesitate and pulled her to him._

It had been a week since the Landsmeet. It had been a resounding success due to the death of the traitor Loghain. The party had returned to Arl Eamon's estate and was awaiting the arrival of the troops they had acquired. Alistair still was moping around about being named the new king but Vaeren helped him slowly come to terms with it. Everyone did his or her best to remain busy until the final battle.

Morrigan watched him from her window. He was welcoming the troops in the courtyard. Smiling and shaking hands. She looked away and cursed herself. She knew what was coming and dreaded every second that drew the inevitable moment closer.

"Why did you get so close?" she murmured, "Why?"

She looked in the vanity mirror. She was exhausted. She growled at her reflection and slammed her fist into the mirror. It cracked and she cursed. She cursed the mirror, the blight, the darkspawn and herself. She flung herself onto the bed and shut her eyes.

"Forget everything," she told herself.

But how could she? After everything they had shared how could she just let it all go? She drifted into uneasy sleep.

_She lay in his arms. His warmth drew her in. She traced over the scars that decorated his torso._

"_I'd like to hear the stories behind these," she said into his chest._

"_One day," he smiled._

_She continued to trace a rather nasty scar left on the length of his ribs._

"_So what now?" he asked._

"_Well," she said, "We continue with our mission to end the blight. But all the while I will continue to pursue what I desire. And if that coincides with what you desire then so be it."_

"_And if I decide that this ends?" he asked._

_She frowned, "Then I won't stop you. If that is what you wish then… so be it."_

"_And if I wish to continue this?" he asked kissing her forehead._

"_And this?" Her cheeks._

"_And this?" Her lips._

_She flushed almost losing herself in it again._

"_Then I shall not complain, my dear warden."_

_She snuggled back into his chest._

"_Tis almost dawn," she said._

"_Just a little while longer?" he asked._

_She lay her head back down onto his chest._

"_Alright," she smiled._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Morrigan waited patiently in Vaeren's room. It was cold and dark as she sat before the room's fireplace. The darkness enveloped her like a welcoming friend, somehow providing clarity for what she must do. She shivered and shot a small flame from her fingertips to the firewood. The room lit up and began to warm. Morrigan heard his footsteps near the door. She prepared herself.

"You know what must be done," she told herself.

The door creaked opened and she disguised the sadness in her voice as she spoke.

"Tis I," she said.

"Morrigan? Is everything alright?" Vaeren asked closing the door behind him.

"I am well," she said, forcing her voice to be emotionless, "It is you who are in danger."

Vaeren forced a cocky smile. One that had always made her knees weak. Not this time.

"Danger? Me?" he asked amused.

Her frustration at his response displayed in her eyes.

"I have a plan," she said, "A way out."

He continued to smile that smile. As if she had no clue what she was talking about.

"I know what happens when the Archdemon dies, Warden," she said bitterly, "It requires a great sacrifice."

The smile on his face disappeared. The gleam in his eye, gone. She struggled forming the next sentence.

"I know… I know that that sacrifice could be you."

His eyes stared at the floor now. Morrigan sighed inwardly.

"I have come to tell you that this does not have to be," she said.

"Oh?" he said, "And what would you propose?"

"A ritual," she said, "Performed on the eve of battle."

"Some black magic that'll cost my soul?" he said half-jokingly.

"Please don't make this difficult, my warden," she thought to herself.

He saw that she was having trouble just being here. Almost like it physically pained her.

"Speak then," he said seriously, "I'll hear it."

She walked and sat on the bed. She rubbed her hand along the soft sheets and wool blanket, hesitating on how to begin.

"Lay with me," she said, "Here, tonight. A child will then be conceived."

Vaeren's brows furrowed. The first sign of distrust she had seen from him in so long a time.

"When the Archdemon is slain the taint in the child will be like a beacon for the Archdemon's essence. The child will not be destroyed by it. The Archdemon dies with no Grey Warden perishing in the process. After this I will leave. And you must not follow me."

"Please don't follow me," she thought, "No matter how much I would want you to."

Vaeren began to pace slowly, thinking over everything he had just been told. She saw a look in his eye that pained her. A look of betrayal.

"So was this the plan?" he asked angrily.

"What?"

"Become close to me. And then just leave?"

She sighed, "You knew sooner or later this would have to end. There's no…"

A lump formed in her throat. She fought it, trying to force the words out. Trying to believe that she actually meant what she was about to say.

"There's no future for us," she said with difficulty.

He seemed stunned. Disbelieving. He stopped pacing.

"You don't believe that," he said, "And neither do I."

"Don't speak for me," she said.

"You don't believe in a future with me?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Say it then," he said seizing her shoulders and bring her face a foot away from his, "Say you don't want this. Tell me it was all a lie."

She couldn't speak. She felt tears forming. She thought she might suffocate. She couldn't lie to this man. Not after everything that had happened.

"Don't ask me to stay Vaeren," she said, "Just… perform this ritual and free me. Grant me this. Put my fears to rest knowing that you will at least live."

He didn't look at her. Sadness and anger filled his voice. He gripped her tighter as if he wouldn't let her go. She didn't want him to.

"Will I see the child?" he asked.

"No," she whispered, "He will be mine to do with as I please."

He nodded angrily.

"Where will you go?"

She sighed, "You know I won't tell you. You know I cannot."

"Now I lose you too," he muttered.

She reached for him but he pinned her arms to her sides. He grinded his teeth and she felt a tear escape.

"Falling for you wasn't part of the plan," she said after awhile, "Finding what I found with you was never supposed to happen. But please. For your sake… and mine. Do this for me. Live."

His grip softened but the rage and sadness remained. He ground his molars and nodded.

"Put aside thoughts of the ritual," she whispered to him, "Let us be together one more time."

His soft snores cut through the darkness of the room. Morrigan hurt. The last night she would ever spend with him. She felt her arms and hips. Bruising was evident from where he had gripped her. His anger, not his love, fueled the ritual's performance but at least it was done. She curled under the blanket, scared to draw near to him. She watched his chest go in and out with each breath. She moved closer. Her nails had left impressions in his torso. She carefully took his hand in hers, and kissed his scarred knuckles. He didn't wake but if he had he would have heard a soft sobbing. With cries that sounded like a small girl whispering, "I love you."


End file.
